Tag Archives: travel

The photos featured with this article are not mine, they have been downloaded from the member of Parliament of Bengal Derek O’Briens’ Twitter account.

About a week ago, a terrible hate crime occurred in Kansas, United States. It was perpetrated against 2 Indians engineers (read the New York time article here). Only one of them survived, leaving the entire Indian community in grief. The president of the United States remained silent, but not the people around the world.
In Kolkata, I just happened to be walking on Park Street, close to Mother Theresas’ statue when I saw them: A group of people had gathered together with signs and candles. When I approached them, curious, a man told me they were protesting against politics of hate, and asked me if I wanted to join. Of course I wanted to join. Here, there, everywhere: I do not support politics of hate.

Some travelers told me (in other occasions, I was alone that day) not to get into protests in a foreign country, because… shit happens. As you already know if you have been reading a little bit my blog, I am sick and tired of the “shit happens”. Shit happens everywhere, even in your one house. Period. And injustices and atrocities are happening everywhere and we have to do something about it.

So suddenly there I was, on the front line with a sign in one hand and a candle in the other, remaining silent and serious under the flashes of the journalists, except for when they asked me to speak on tv (!)

Because being a nomad doesn’t mean I got rid of my opinions as I got rid of most of my material belongings. Not at all. There are stronger than ever. And I have always been pro activism, I always felt necessary to raise my voice to protest, and I will keep on doing it. I cannot stay silent in front of injustice. And now I have a new tool: my blog. My travel blog. Because traveling is compatible with activism, with art, with social issues, with fun, with everything. Traveling is life.

One of the things you hold on most when you are traveling is your passport. Oh how I hate when checking in a hostel they want to keep it “safe”! Even if it is just an hour in order to make photocopies, I get nervous knowing it lays in other hands than mine. So just imagine leaving is to an embassy for 24 hours! (it happened to me in Sri Lanka for my Indian visa)

And now imagine being separated of your only identification form for 10 DAYS in a foreign country… It just happened to me. 10 days wandering around Kolkata undocumented (!)

The procedure to get the visa to Bangladesh was really unclear, but in the end everything went very smoothly (when I think about the Bangladeshis willing to travel to Europe, I feel like crying of shame). I got my passport back yesterday evening, and after paying for it, I finally discovered the visa between its’ pages as I was standing in the middle of the crowd on the street. I started tearing of happiness. I got it. Visiting Bangladesh is my dream, and it is going to come true.

But the majority of westerners always ask me: Why Bangladesh? Why are you so obsessed with this country? What is there to see over there?

And obviously have they thing to say about it… Don’t go! Go to Nepal instead! Go to Bhutan! Go to South East Asia! Or just stay in India! You’re crazy! It is not safe! Are you going alone?? You’re a girl! It’s a muslim country! Don’t go, or at least don’t go alone!

When people tell me not to travel to Bangladesh for X reasons…

The others always know better. None of these people have never stepped a foot in Bangladesh, but there are afraid of it. Because it is the unknown. It doesn’t have such a tourist infrastructure like the countries around it, it is off the “Gringo Trail”, it is not backpacker friendly and because no one ever speaks about Bangladesh, not even the medias. The forgotten little country surrounded by India and Myanmar.

That is why I am going there. I want to see it. I want to witness it. I want to write about it. I want to feel it.

So YES, I am a GIRL and YES, I am traveling ALONE and NO, I am NOT AFRAID!!!

’cause shit can happen anywhere. Shit can happen in your own country, in your own town and even in front of your own house.

’cause I am not afraid of other cultures or religions.

’cause I beleive people are good.

’cause Bangladesh is full of inspiring people. I can’t wait to meet The Flag Girl, and I will do my best to cross paths with Shahidul Alam and Taslima Akhter.

Kolkata, from Kalikata: the field of Kali, Goddess of Time, Creation, Destruction and Power. My favorite. If I had to “kiss some gods’ arse”, as Aravind Adiga says in “The White Tiger”, it would be Kalis. Maybe does it influe in the fact that fell in love with the City of Joy. Or maybe not. Maybe is it just because of all these wonderful people I’ve got to meet here, of the smell of the amazing (and amazingly cheap!) food that follows me wherever I go, of the sweet chai I drink in every corner in clay cups, or of the artistic and cultural events that take place everywhere, at anytime 🙂

Flower market

Workers of the Victoria Memorial

Having a break on the street

Ma’am! Please take a picture of me with this rose!

Flower market

Morning bath in the Hoghly river

Casual

Lost in the city, this man offered me a seat, a bottle of water and his precious advices <3

Here is the link to the article I’ve written for Travelicious a few weeks ago. You will find there tips and anwsers to frequent questions you may have before traveling to Cuba. I hope you’ll find it usefull 🙂